


Concerning Brothers

by Pennington



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennington/pseuds/Pennington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hamato Yoshi is first mutated, he mistakenly leaves Michelangelo behind; when Mikey and the turtles cross paths later in life, all shell breaks loose. (Ignore the pun. This is a lame story about family and junk)</p><p>I don't want to promise anything exactly, but it should remain pretty tame, though there may be some language here and there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Origin Story

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an infamously slow writer, so my updates will be rather infrequent; I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy this, and if you have any criticism, I would love to hear it. I know I've still got a long way to go with my writing, and every little bit helps.
> 
> This takes place primarily in the 2012 universe, but it'll have bits taken from other universes, too. It might help to just imagine this as its own entity.
> 
> This story is on fanfiction.net as well, by the way (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11748168/1/Concerning-Brothers), but I figured I might as well post it here, too :)

Hamato Yoshi, freshly mutated, exhausted, and hunched over in barely concealed pain, finally allowed himself to fall to his knees.

In front of him the baby turtles were crawling around excitedly in the vaguely luminescent, green substance that had caused his own metamorphosis. He wanted to remove them, but didn’t feel capable of much more than sort of keeping his eyes open in the moment.

There were too many thoughts running through his head to even think straight. It didn’t feel at all real, and he was truthfully still trying to process everything. Within the span of two minutes, his situation had gone from ‘looking up’ to ‘bottom rung’ once more. Just two minutes for him to lose everything- again.

His first real, solid thought was that he must somehow be dreaming- in graphic detail and alarming clarity. That must be it. Things like this didn’t happen; people didn’t mutate into horrifying, hirsute, anthropomorphic creatures. That was sci-fi; this was real life.

And yet, as impossible as it was, when he glanced at his hand he still had claws, and when he felt at his face his nose was still massive and way too long to be human, and he still had fur covering his entire body, and none of it was going away. He knew it couldn’t be a dream, really- it was all too real to be a dream. Though, at the moment, the shock of the situation was keeping him from truly thinking about that.

Suddenly, his ears twitched- something he hadn’t meant to do, and that disturbed him to a degree. Something, or somebody, was making an awful lot of noise a short distance away. To him, it sounded like running…

More men were coming, and lots of them. He knew it; he could sense them, and he could hear the shouts of irritation as they stormed through the crowds of people to get to the back alley he was in. There were too many. He couldn’t deal with this alone- not in his current state. They would have him down in less than a minute.

He had to hide.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his protesting muscles. The second his head stopped spinning, however, he noticed with some alarm that the turtles had scattered. He knew they were hit by the slime, too, and when he looked a little bit closer he could tell they looked bigger, and- something… anatomically different. Also, one of them was trying to stand, which was definitely not a thing turtles did. He couldn’t leave them alone- they had to come with him.

Cautiously, he stumbled toward the nearest turtle, and, as gently as he could, went to scoop him up. The turtle reacted badly, at first, and even went as far as to try to bite him, but Yoshi did not have time to be concerned about that. 

The first turtle calmed down a bit when the others (who were, so far, much more mild-mannered) were picked up. Yoshi tried to hold them as gently as possible, but was having some difficulty with their squirming, and the fact that he was still trying to operate in a body he was not used to only made matters worse.

He scanned the ground quickly, noting the shattered glass and remaining slime. Something was missing… he was forgetting something- he just didn’t know what. His jumbled thoughts were causing him some difficulty.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, as the footsteps were suddenly much closer, then, and louder. His heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest. They were almost on him- he had to leave immediately.

Only wasting a second to glance behind him, he darted to the nearest hiding place he could spot: a manhole, and with some effort managed to slide the cover open just enough to drop into the sewers.

Just as he slid the manhole cover closed again he heard voices and footsteps from above. The men had finally made it to the alley, and were saying something about the spilled canister. For just a second he considered staying to listen to them, but quickly decided he shouldn’t dwell there, in the event that they realized where he went and came looking. Besides, the wordy, strange way they spoke was giving him a headache, anyway.

It was difficult to get himself going. The nauseating smell of the water was discouraging enough to keep him stood in place for a good minute, unable to stomach the fact that he would have to stay here for a while- god willing, only few days.

Eventually, however, the agitated squirming of the three turtles still in his hand reeled his mind back to the current task: getting to safety- not only for himself, but for them.

And so, stifling a gag at the stench about him, he picked a direction at random and reluctantly began his lengthy trek to safety.


	2. Introducing: Donatello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos, you guys... and the bookmark :))  
> Really, that's the stuff that keeps me going.
> 
> I'm still learning how to use formatting on this site, and so far the most elaborate thing I can handle is like, italics. Which means until I figure out line breaks, if there is a specific way to do them here, I get to use my ultra-fancy tilde-asterisk-tilde ~*~

Sometimes, Donatello swore, the only safe place was his lab- surrounded by machines he'd built and was in the process of building, all his tools and chemicals- all fruits of his own intelligence, unique among his brothers and, as he understood it, really anybody his own age.

In his lab he almost couldn't hear Raphael and Leonardo yelling at each other over- Christ, whatever they'd decided to pick a fight over that week.

In his lab he was surrounded by things he understood, or could understand, which was comforting.

Biology, mechanics, chemistry- _that_ stuff he could do.

He was, sadly, not so great at "family-ology", or whatever that branch of insight might be called. He couldn't tell you what was on earth was wrong with Raphael- or what to do about that metal rod that was perpetually up Leonardo's shell.

How to hack into a security system, though? Sure, pull up a chair and bring a notepad, and he'll tell you all there is to know. How one could potentially grow their own personalized mega-virus, for science- of course? Get comfortable, that explanation may take a while- but he's got it.

But why his family was always so tense and weird? Phh, no dice.

And, maybe it wasn't entirely his fault. It wasn't like his brothers really bothered being personal with him much, anymore. As far as emotions and feeling-sharing went, he'd been kind of… excluded. They talked to him sometimes, yeah- but there was some kind of impassible wall that kept them from sharing the really important stuff- which was, frankly, annoying.

Maybe they didn't talk to him because he was the "baby" of the family, or maybe Raph and Leo genuinely didn't ever talk about that stuff- he wasn't sure.

But that's what families were supposed to do, right? According to everything he'd read and seen, normal, healthy families were supposed to band together to deal with things, even if it was mushy and lame and sometimes a little bit uncomfortable.

They weren't exactly healthy _or_ normal, though, were they?

Three mutated turtle brothers and a mutated human as an adopted father, who lived in the sewers and fought bad guys. That didn't exactly sound like a recipe for normalcy, to Donatello.

And in conclusion: that was why his lab was awesome. He could lock himself away and pretend for a bit that his family wasn't ridiculous and distant, and impossible for him to wrap his head around. His lab was safe.

… Except for those rare times when one of his brothers barged in unannounced.

~*~

Donatello jumped a near five feet in the air when his lab door was suddenly flung open, and Raphael came unceremoniously marching in, holding a decently sized hunk of _something_ in his hands.

"Leo broke the fucking toaster again," Raph proclaimed loudly.

Once his breathing evened again, he was able to focus on what Raph was carrying, which looked suspiciously like...

Wait…

_No way_.

"Is _that_ it?" Donnie asked, his eyes widening once he finally recognized that mutilated scrap in Raphael's hands as the family toaster.

"Yep."

Raph carried it over to Donnie's desk, setting it down in front of him. He leaned backward against the wall, crossing his arms and setting his gaze on Donnie.

"That's- _impressive_ \- how did he even _do_ that?" Raph snorted in response.

"Natural talent, I guess- he ain't the prodigal son for nothin'. Can ya fix it?" Donnie sighed.

"Probably- it shouldn't be _too_ hard. I'll have to completely rebuild the outside, though… And the insides might be fried, but I may be able to salvage some pieces for-"

"Okay, okay… I don't need a breakdown, Don." He looked up from his cautious examination of Leo's handiwork to see Raph glancing around the lab, "Is there more stuff in here?"

"Huh?" It took him a second to realize that Raph was referring to the surplus of _things_ laying around. "Oh- probably." How many new projects had he started in the last week? Definitely too many to reasonably do at once.

And, okay, maybe his lab could do with a clearing-out. Even he could admit it was getting a little too cluttered.

"Shell, don't ya ever need to _break_ from this stuff?"

"Not really," Raph's expression was something between confused, interested, and _not_ \- a nice clue-in for Donnie that this was another lighthearted conversation starter of Raph's, and that he was not out for a really long, deeply personal answer, which Donnie could definitely offer. So, he added, "This is my fun. Hobbies don't all have to be as brain-frying as video games."

"This," Raph gestured around the lab, "Ain't a hobby. This is taking nerdy to unhealthy levels."

"'Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably the reason why so few engage in it.'"

"'Intelligence is like an underwear,'" Raph quipped right back, not missing a beat, "'It is important that you have it, but not necessary that you show it off.'"

"We don't wear clothes, Raph."

"That's _not_ the point and you know it, smartass."

Don couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him. Raph smirked, apparently pleased with himself for getting the last word.

Absently, Donnie started tinkering with the toaster. God- it was _busted_. On second thought, he might have to rebuild the whole thing- kind of a shame, but he could do it, no problem. His train of thought was cut off when Raph suddenly cleared his throat, kicking off the wall, and heading for the door.

"Hey- don't forget we have patrol tonight. Leo's gonna drag you out of here by the tails of your mask if you're asleep."

"Ha. I'll remember."

After a warning like that, how could he not.


	3. A Ninja and His Batallion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, alright, I feel pretty silly. I figured out what I was doing wrong with the formatting stuff. I've got it sorted now, lol.  
> Wow. Last time I posted a chapter I wasted like an hour going through and coding in all of the italicized words and I could've just pasted the story into the rich text thing. Now I know, I guess.  
> Anway, yeah. I hope you guys like this chapter! :) It was really hard to write, but, I had fun.   
> Happy reading <3

Not that Leo was expecting any different, but, Donatello did, in fact, fall asleep before patrol. And Leo may not have _actually_ dragged him from the lair by his mask, but he had half a mind to.

He liked to think he was just being super nice and lenient that day by choosing not to tell Donnie off for his unhealthy sleeping habits, but, really, it was almost certainly the shame of causing his brother to have to fix the toaster again that kept him from making a fuss. This time, anyway.

After all, how could he _really_ expect his brother to take a lecture from somebody who couldn't even operate a freaking toaster without supervision? It was just embarrassing.

Really, some wise leader _he_ was.

Sneaking into the lab as quietly as he could manage- which was very quietly, thank you- he crept up to Donnie's desk, where his brother was passed out hunched over what looked like blueprints for like, thirty different things. He was snoring quietly, but otherwise silent and moving very little, truly dead to the world.

Leo almost hated to wake him up.

_Almost_.

He reached out to plant his hand on Donnie's shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.

"Don, hey, bro; it's time to wake up," he said quietly, only- he realized as soon as the words left his mouth that he'd slipped into his "caretaker" voice, which Raph _often_ commented made him sound like a middle-aged mom (which, for a nineteen-year-old mutant turtle, was like, the _worst_ insult). He cleared his throat, then, tried again, because Don was apparently not hearing him, "Donnie- wake up. We're heading topside in thirty minutes," he paused briefly, waiting for a response, and continued when he didn't get one, "Can you hear me?"

A jumbled groan of syllables that sounded suspiciously like "bug", "off", and "Leo" came muffled through Don's folded-over arms (his makeshift pillow, apparently), before he huffed some sort of exhausted sigh, and said, much clearer, "Give me a few minutes."

"Alright," Leo said, smiling, even if he technically did know Donnie couldn't see it (it was the thought that counted, right?), "We'll be waiting."

Giving Donnie's shell a soft, encouraging pat, he slunk back out of the lab, closing the door quietly behind himself.

This was routine, for Leo. Before patrol, Donatello had to be fetched (often awakened from an ill-timed nap), and Raphael could usually be found in the living room, utterly loathing the fact that he had to wait on everybody else to get ready before he could leave, and making his misery everybody's problem by being sulky and extra irritable.

And lo and behold, just as he suspected, Raph was lounging on the couch when Leo found him- some show about monster trucks playing on the T.V., which was so Raph-typical Leo almost laughed. If he had some sort of death wish, he might've.

"Is he comin' or what?" Raph questioned (bordering on demanded), glancing only briefly at Leo when he sat down beside him on the raggedy loveseat.

"I gave him thirty minutes," Leo said, glancing at the television and cringing internally when he caught sight of a truck, like, three times the size of the Shellraiser rolling right over a crown vic, and just _crushing_ it like it was nothing. He wondered, for just a fleeting second, how on earth this stuff could possibly interest his brother, before continuing, "I thought it might give him some time to wake completely up before patrol."

"Well, he better get his ass in gear, like, now," Raph muttered, sinking further into the couch cushions and huffing irritably, "I'm not waitin' all night on you guys. I'll go by myself if I have to…"

"You will _not_ ," Leo said seriously, facing his brother and taking on his authoritative, "leader" tone- the one Raph said made him sound like a bossy asshole.

Come to think of it, Raph had an awful lot to say about the way he spoke.

Raph's only response to that was a nice and dramatic eye-roll and a sarcastic, sort of quiet, "Whatever you say, Fearless."

Leo bit back the urge to say anything else, settling instead for chewing on his cheek and turning his focus to the T.V., so he wouldn't have to look at his brother. He knew Raph didn't take his warnings seriously, half the time; but he wasn't just doing this for his own health, okay? It was his job to worry about this stuff.

Was he naggy? Yeah, maybe. But if he had even the slightest chance of keeping his brothers from doing something stupid and getting into trouble, shell- he'd nag until he was exactly six feet under, whether Raph thought he was annoying, overbearing, bossy, what have you, or not.

For the next few minutes Leo tried paying attention to Raph's show (which he'd gathered was called _Metal Monster Madness- Fight to the Top_ ) - really, he did, but to say that it wasn't his cup of tea would be the understatement of the century.

No- the millennium, surely.

Apparently, he would just have to add _Metal Monster Madness_ to his already expansive list of things he didn't get about Raphael- just one more silly place where they didn't see eye-to-eye.

It didn't matter, really; it was just a dumb show. But still.

Sometimes he wished he and Raph could have something like a dumb show in common. Something inconsequential that they could sit down and just enjoy together- without spiraling into an argument. They were _always_ arguing, lately. It was kind of exhausting.

And he knew a dumb show wasn't going to fix that- but there was no way it wouldn't be a step up from where they were, now.

Leo didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as, true to his word, Donatello came shuffling into the living room five short minutes later, pulling his gear on as he walked and practically dragging his equipment bag behind him.

One thermos-full of coffee later, they were finally ready to leave, and Leo, ignoring as usual his suddenly sky-high anxiety levels, led his brothers toward the outside world- against every self-preserving instinct in his body, _toward_ the blasted danger. Because that's what leaders did.

Even if he hated the chances, even if his heart clenched in fear whenever his brothers left the lair, and even if there was always that lingering possibility that one of them wouldn't be coming back with the rest in the morning, it was his job- his leadership was what he had to offer them, and he was going to see it through to the best of his ability.

* * *

For the longest time, patrol that night was routine, mostly uneventful, and, as Raph made sure to reiterate at _least_ every twenty seconds, boring.

That was perfectly fine by Leo. A night with minimal crime was a night where he couldn't possibly make a mistake- where his brothers had almost no chances to get hurt.

But, suddenly, from seemingly out of nowhere, he heard something weird echoing through the alleyways below them. It sounded like- well, he wasn't sure, really. A motor, maybe?

"Guys, hold on," Leo said, putting his arm out to stop his brothers from running ahead, "Listen."

For a second there was nothing. Whatever he'd heard, it had just- stopped, suddenly. Only the hum of traffic from somewhere a few blocks away and a beeping horn here and there cut through the silence.

That was, until Raphael scoffed, facing Leo and leaning back against the nearest wall, an eyebrow raised.

"You losin' your touch, Fearless?" he taunted, not a little smugly, and apparently in a much better mood since leaving the lair, "There's nothin' here-"

"Raphael! Could you _possibly_ find it in yourself to be quiet for, like, a second?" Leo snapped, his hard gaze resting heavily on his brother, and if looks could kill, man- Leo wouldn't have stood a chance.

But before Raph could dish out what Leo had no doubt was going to be a high-quality, _extra_ sassy retort, the sound started up again- the unmistakable rumbling of a large truck engine, very nearby.

Leo tried to hide the small smirk that made its way onto his face, but Raph had been looking for it, and scowled dirtily when he caught sight of it.

"Oh, shut up, Leo," he said, then, grumbled, "Come on," stalking kind of grumpily to the edge of the rooftop.

Donatello fell into step beside Leo as Raph took up the lead, heading in the direction the noise seemed to be coming from.

"Don't mind him," Donnie said quietly once Raph was out of earshot, the slightest of smiles playing at his lips, "He hates being wrong."

"No kidding."

They followed Raph onto the next building, then the next, until, finally, their target came into view.

They found themselves near a large, open space with a line of warehouses, lit every few yards by a flickering streetlight that bathed the lot in a faded orange color. Parked directly in front of a warehouse with the number thirteen painted on it in big, bold letters, was the source of the sound they'd been hearing: a large, white, eighteen-wheeler truck that kind of screamed shenanigans, as far as Leo was concerned.

Leo tapped his brothers' backs, urging them into a crouching position, and made his way just this side of soundlessly to the edge of the roof, careful to stick to where the shadows were the thickest.

There were about ten, maybe fifteen foot ninja bustling about the lot, many of them lugging crates from the warehouse and loading them on the truck.

It was nothing they couldn't handle. It would be hard, maybe- foot tended to be _some_ degree tougher than your run of the mill Dragon, but it was certainly doable-

"Nice- maybe this night doesn't have ta be a total waste, after all."

-As long as they were careful, at least.

Leo glanced over at Raph, who- sure enough- had that excited, pre-fight gleam in his eye that rivaled even Donnie's "ooh, new gadgets" look.

His hands hovered carefully over his sai, his fingers twitching with energy and one hundred and twenty percent ready to rip the weapons from their holsters at a second's notice.

When Leo whispered his name, Raph didn't look his way- didn't even seem to notice he'd said anything. His eyes were glued to the humans below.

" _Raph_ ," he tried again, and this time Raph's head turned so fast he worried for a second that he might sprain something.

" _What_?" he growled, his impatience practically something that could be felt, and seen, and _touched_.

It was _that_ dangerous energy that sometimes led Leo to doubt Raph, as much as he hated to think it. They were partners in combat, along with Donnie- Leo put his life in his brother's hands on a near daily basis, and trusted him deeply.

But there was a sort of discipline that Raph was just- _scarily_ lacking in, sometimes.

And since Leo _was_ the leader, he took it upon himself to quell the rising storm, so to speak.

"Control yourself, okay? This is going to take some tact."

And, boy- was that ever the _wrong_ thing to say.

There was a short, very tense pause where Raph just sort of stared at Leo, before finally speaking in a rough, contained whisper, as if he was really struggling to keep his voice low.

"I'm sorry," he began, narrowing his eyes, "You're right, yeah. I wouldn't wanna do anything rash, like, fucking _breathe_."

"Don't be ridiculous, Raph," he let out a long-suffering sigh, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, very aware of the lack of helping it would do, "I just don't want you to go charging in there guns blazing and drawing unwanted attention to us."

"And how the hell do ya know what _I'm_ goin' to do? Yer- what, gut instinct? Ya just _know_ I'm about to fuck up?"

"Well, you do it fairly consistently, so," Leo tossed right back, staring hard at his brother, "Forgive me for being cautious."

"Oh my god, please, you two," Donnie muttered from Leo's left, and he turned his head to see Donnie rubbing his temples, eyes clenched shut, the actual embodiment of exasperation, and looking like he would literally rather leap into a volcano than be where he was now, "Maybe you _haven't_ noticed the horde of enemies just six yards from us, but trust me, they're there. So if you could kindly postpone this discussion until- I don't know, _any_ other time that would be excellent."

" _Oh, please don't… This is just getting interesting_."

Leo froze.

That- he didn't know that voice.

Suddenly not very concerned with the foot ninja below him, and whether or not they would see, he stood up and whipped around, facing the unfamiliar speaker and brandishing his weapons, as fast as he'd ever done- maybe faster.

Beside him Donnie and Raph took up their own defensive stances, and all thoughts of their almost-argument melted away to be replaced by the fighter's thoughts in him. Find the danger; protect your brothers; eliminate the danger; _protect them_.

Leo glared at the shadowed figure that stood on the roof with them, almost companionably close, like he had a right to be there.

"Whoa, down, boys… I just wanna talk!" the guy spoke, almost- lightheartedly. Almost like he meant it.

Leo heard Raph growl very lowly in response, but other than that, none of them moved, or so much as made a sound.

"I'll take that as a yes," the guy said, chuckling almost imperceptibly- if Leo's senses hadn't been on overload he may not have caught it at all. "For starters," the figure stepped just a little closer, and finally, some of his features could be seen by the dim light available, and it was obvious just by the curve of some of the shadows on his face that they couldn't be looking at a human, "You wanna explain what you were planning on doing with my men down there?" He gestured with a tilt of his head to the lot, where, by the sounds of things (or, lack thereof, of any sounds that weren't shuffling crates), they still hadn't been noticed.

Donnie was the first of his brothers to find his voice.

" _Your_ men?"

The figure nodded.

"Yep- first time leading my own battalion. Pretty sweet, huh?"

Well, Leo would hardly call the group a _battalion_ , but he wasn't going to say that.

And anyway, that wasn't the weirdest thing about what the guy had said. It was pretty weird- to Leo, anyway, that the guy was so eager to relay this information to them. Even if it wasn't technically important, wasn't there some- foot ninja code, or something? Don't talk to the enemies? Like, at all?

"But, anyway," the figure stepped closer again, further into the pitiful light, but stopped, suddenly, and blinked at them, as if really seeing them for the first time.

Leo felt his brothers tense beside him, and his own stomach flipped uncomfortably in surprise at the now completely visible kid- yes, definitely kid, probably not far from their own age, standing just a few feet from them.

But, the fact that he was younger than expected wasn't the real kicker. Not to Leo- surely not to his brothers, either.

"Huh," the guy said, his shock made evident in every part of his tone and stance, "I thought I was the only mutant turtle in New York..."


End file.
